(for Vic Mizzy)
She’d rather have stayed in Manhattan.
Here, in the land of acres and acres
of nothing but green, in the land
where there’s nothing lacy, no Times Square,
no Park Avenue anywhere to be seen,
only fresh air and endless chores,
she still longs for a little Fifth Avenue Saks
or Macy’s, or any of the other stores
while he, in his business suit and tie,
attempting to fix the tractor, imagines
that greenery will set him free, thinks
he only needs to visit with the neighbor,
talk to the neighbor’s pig, purchase
a bag of Mr Haney’s magic seeds.